Chi Zhan’s eyelashes trembled.
He tried desperately to turn his head away, but the man leaned in the very next second, pressing close to him. His nose brushed against Chi Zhan’s cheek, followed by a deliberately provocative kissing noise.
…He was kissing the back of Chi Zhan’s hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” Chi Zhan hissed, only to be answered by another string of obscene, wet sounds deliberately made against his own hand. The man shoved Chi Zhan further into the corner, lowering his voice to a dangerous murmur that only Chi Zhan could hear. “Go on, move. Scream. I dare you.”
“……”
Outside the door, Zhou Yanxing also fell conspicuously silent.
The party wasn’t exactly known for enforcing rules, but someone being this brazen… now that was a first.
The only person who didn’t seem remotely embarrassed was the unknown man who had “taken hostage” of Chi Zhan.
Who the hell was this guy?! And why was he so damn good at this?!
Chi Zhan was on the verge of losing it.
Ten minutes later, Chu Xingxiao—wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes—returned to his room. He stood before the mirror, running his fingers through his tousled hair to fix where it had been mussed.
His manager was waiting inside. The moment he saw him, the man shot to his feet.
“For fuck’s sake, where the hell have you been?! That was your cue just now and you were MIA! I had to send Xiao Si to cover for you—wait, what happened to your hand?!”
Chu Xingxiao rinsed his hand under cold water, then scoffed as the memory surfaced.
“A stray cat bit me.”
The manager was nearly apoplectic.
“What cat?! There’s no damn cat on this boat! What the hell were you doing sneaking around—” Mid-sentence, he froze, his expression shifting. “Don’t tell me you went to find President Zhou?”
“I did.”
Chu Xingxiao stared casually at the bite mark on the back of his hand—still visible, teeth imprints etched deep. Clearly someone had been pissed off. But he hadn’t been angry at all.
So why the hell was the other guy mad?
He was the one who had made the call to Zhou Yanxing, asking to meet and talk about the damn rumors. He hadn’t even finished speaking before someone hung up on him.
That alone had sent a very clear message: the company was determined to push the scandal, and there was no room for negotiation.
But Chu Xingxiao was never the type to blindly follow orders. If not for his overwhelming popularity and undeniable talent, he would’ve been frozen out by the company ages ago.
“You really went to him?” The manager looked utterly defeated. “Come on, it’s just a damn scandal. Every celeb these days has one! You’re at the peak of your career. Stirring up a little boys’ love drama? All upside, no downside. It’s not like they’re asking you to actually do anything. Just get some photos taken while having dinner or something—what’s so hard about that?”
“I’m not interested.” Chu Xingxiao replied flatly. “If I’m going to date someone, I’ll decide who. I’m not parading around with every rando the company digs up. What if someone I actually like sees it—how the hell am I supposed to explain that? You gonna explain it for me?”
“You’re in love?!”
The manager looked like he’d been struck by lightning.
Chu Xingxiao stared at him with a deadpan expression.
“No.”
The manager let out a sigh of relief—then immediately tensed up again.
“You really went to see President Zhou? What did he say? Did he yell at you? Are you getting blacklisted?!”
Zhou Yanxing’s schedule was notoriously packed. Most artists under the company couldn’t even get a glimpse of him. But Chu Xingxiao wasn’t like the rest—he had guts, and he didn’t mind using them.
And yet even he hadn’t gotten more than a few words in before the call was cut off.
—So it was mandatory now? Stir up a scandal or get lost?
Chu Xingxiao was fuming.
He wasn’t just some money-making machine. He was one of the top idols in the game. And this was how they treated him?
The manager had tried everything to talk him down, going on and on about how it was all “for his own good.” But Chu Xingxiao wasn’t buying it. He refused to let his life be scripted from top to bottom.
Still, actually meeting Zhou Yanxing face to face was nearly impossible. The man had an entire team of secretaries screening his schedule. Who knew how long Chu Xingxiao had been waiting—yet not a single meeting had been arranged.
What was he, a Buddha? Did you have to complete eighty-one trials just to get an audience?
He’d only managed to run into Zhou Yanxing by chance after being invited to perform on the cruise—and what do you know, the guy had brought a male companion.
And they looked very close.
Just colleagues? Yeah, right.
“It’s not that serious,” Chu Xingxiao said with a shrug. “He even picked out a scandal partner for me.”
His manager, busy rummaging for a Band-Aid, froze mid-motion.
“Who?! Weren’t we talking about Xiao Su—?”
“Secretary Chi. You know him? Zhou Yanxing’s new secretary.” Chu Xingxiao tilted his head, thoughtful. “If we’re doing a fake scandal, might as well pick someone from outside the circle. Do me a favor—dig up his details. Where he lives, whether he’s dated before, his hobbies. Send it all to me. If we’re gonna act, we’re gonna make it believable.”
“…???”
Chi Zhan finally unwrapped the satin ribbon still tangled around his hand, sneezed once, and stepped out of the restroom—only to run straight into Cen Chi.
Dr. Cen was impeccably dressed, and the moment he spotted Chi Zhan, he strode over at once. But as soon as he got a good look at him, his brows furrowed in concern.
Chi Zhan was clearly disheveled—collar hanging open, the decorative ribbon from his shirt missing entirely, and his hair was in disarray.
He looked like someone who’d just been through something… unpleasant.
Chi Zhan hadn’t expected to bump into Cen Chi of all people the moment he stepped out. He hadn’t even had time to straighten himself up—he just wanted to get back and check the security footage to see who that man really was.
When his gaze met Cen Chi’s, Chi Zhan froze.
Cen Chi had always been a sharp observer—no less perceptive than Zhou Yanxing.
…So how the hell was he supposed to explain this now?
***
In that moment, seeing Cen Chi somehow made Chi Zhan’s whole body relax.
Maybe it was because Dr. Cen had always possessed a quiet kind of dependability. He was the type of person who made you feel safe. If you asked him for help, you never had to worry about things going wrong.
And now that the tension was draining from his body, Chi Zhan’s already foggy mind grew even fuzzier. The lingering sensation of something having bound his wrists still clung to his skin. The scent of alcohol mixed with a heady cologne dulled his senses further.
“Dr. Cen, what are you doing here? Were you also heading to—”
He gestured vaguely toward the corridor, stepping aside to make room. But for some reason, his foot caught on the edge of the carpet, and he stumbled forward.
